After His Death
by Ilovepi
Summary: George after Fred's death. The world should have ended. Only it didn't. However, there are some very twisted people out there who need trials, a store to be reopened, and a few romances. HP/GW, HG/RW, eventually maybe GW/AJ. George's POV.
1. Getting Up

**After His Death**

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing**_

Fred was dead. It was like I was split in half. I had always been defined in terms of Fred. Fred and George, Gred and Forge…But now he was gone. Gone!! The world must be coming to an end. Why hadn't the sky fallen and the world explode? It must. It had to. The world couldn't exist without Fred.

I apparated home as soon as I could get away from the castle. Voldemort was dead. So what? Fred was too.

I went to bed and didn't get up for a week. Mum brought me food and tried to get me up.

"C'mon George," she said, "Fred wouldn't want you to be like this." But it didn't have quite the effect she wanted it to, because she burst into tears and hurried out.

I stared at the ceiling and considered suicide. It was white with writing in bright red: "WE, THE WEASLY TWINS, DO SOLEMNLY SWEAR TO BRING LAUGTHER INTO A WORLD THAT SORELY NEEDS IT"

I caught myself smiling and instantly stopped. It had been Fred's idea, of course. The world _was_ in need of humor and we had had enough for everyone.

Had. We certainly did not have any now. Hell, there wasn't a we. Not now.

It was Ginny who finally got me up.

"Get up, dude," she said. Ginny had always been our favorite of the others. She was the most like us, and she definitely had the best sense of humor, besides for us, of course.

"No."

She pointed at the ceiling. "It looks like you're the one who needs it now. Verity has been beside herself at the shop. She can't run it without you."

Verity was our employee in Diagon Alley.

"I can't do it without him."

"Yes you can."

"No, I can't."

"Can."

"Can't."

She threw up her arms in annoyance. "Don't you think you're being just a little ridiculous?" she asked.

I thought about. "No."

"Well, you'll have to get up for the weddings."

I blinked. "Er…Bill and Fleur are already married."

Ginny rolled her eyes at me and tossed that gorgeous red hair, exasperated. "Where have you been?" She flashed a sparkling diamond ring in my face. I stared.

I said the only thing I could think of. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"You're only sixteen."

"So?"

"Isn't that a little young?"

"Yeah. Your point being?"

"You're too little."

"Why?"

I stared at her. "You just are!"

"I see." She was twirling her wand absently. I eyed it and decided not to push it any farther. I'm not fond of being attacked by giant booger bats. "Well, Harry and I are so happy, we could never change our minds."

They had no right to be happy. Fred was dead.

Ha, that rhymes.

But it's not funny. Not in the slightest.

"Well?"

"Okay," I said.

"Really?" she said. I guess she wasn't expecting to win.

I nodded and got out of bed.


	2. The shop and a dream

**After His Death**

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing**_

I walked downstairs, Ginny trailing behind me. Mom dropped the knife she was holding, but caught it with a flick of her wand. "George!" she gasped.

"Hi, Mom," I said and continued walking. I walked out the door, turned and—

Was somewhere else. I stood outside a very familiar store. The signs in the window were still flashing lazily, the enchantments wearing off. A lopsided cardboard plaque said "Sorry, we're closed."

I walked in. "We're closed!" someone screamed from the backroom. "Can't you read?"

"Sure I can," I replied.

I heard something crash in the back and caught a glimpse of something blond and maroon before it crashed into me, giving me a tremendous hug.

"George!"

"I'm back," I said. There really wasn't very much else to say.

Verity stepped back and looked at me. "I missed you," she said simply. I saw her eyes go to my ear. Or rather, to my missing ear.

"You've changed," she remarked.

"Who hasn't?" I asked.

Her eyes were filling with tears. It was only later that I realized mine had too.

I settled in pretty quickly. Nothing in my room had change. It was odd, I realized. This was the only place Fred and I had not shared a room. Of that, I was glad. There was less to remind me of him.

Verity was overjoyed to have me back. I knew things had been hard for her.

We had a quiet dinner. Being here was much better than home. No, scratch that. This was home.

That night, I had a dream.

I was in a large hall draped with Gryffindor flags. I walked all the way down it. Things were happening around me but I ignored them and just kept walking.

Finally, I reached the end of the hall. There was a mirror.

I looked at my reflection. The first thing that I noticed was that I was wearing the maroon robes that we wore in the store. My eyes traveled upward.

My reflection had two ears. Automatically, I reached up and touched mine. There was still a flat spot where my ear wasn't.

"What is going on here?" I asked the world.

My reflection replied, "This is the Mirror of Erised. Remember, Harry told us about it?"

"Oh yeah," I said. "So my deepest desire is to have both ears?

The reflection laughed. "No, you dufus! I'm Fred, can't you tell?"

I couldn't. How come I hadn't guessed that?

"Well, I wasn't expecting to see you, you know," I replied.

"This is a dream, bud. Anything can happen in a dream."

"So this isn't real. This is just in my head." I was disappointed.

"Of course this is in your head, but why does that make it any less real?" he asked solemnly.

I gave him a very strange look.

He laughed. "Sorry, just a line I stole from dear old Dumbledore."

"You've seen Dumbledore? He's there too?"

"On the other side of the vale," he said mysteriously.

"You've changed," I said regretfully.

"Who hasn't?" he asked, quoting me.

"You heard that?"

"I was curious."

"Seriously, though. You're different."

"Being dead does that to you." He smiled sadly.

"What's it …like?" I asked.

"Being dead? Different. I can't really explain it. It's against the rules, too."

"Since when have you cared about rules?"

Fred started to reply, but then he glanced over his shoulder. "I have to go now. Listen, George. Don't lose your sense of humor. That's the most important thing. Don't forget how to laugh." he faded away and I woke up.

I was lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

"Don't forget…"

**Sorry it took so long to update. Please review!**


	3. Newspapers, Invitations and People

**Chapter 3—After his Death**

_I own nothing. Sigh._

_Thank you so much to the people who reviewed. Rnkas, lustoflostlove, thanks for the support. I hope you like it._

I settled into life pretty quickly. We did not talk about him or about life before. Verity understood that I was not ready yet.

We had very few customers those first few weeks. The wizarding world was in shock. Aurors were rounding up the last few Death Eaters. Harry's picture was on the front page of the _Prophet_for ten days running. I imagined how embarrassed he must be.

To my surprise, there was a big article one day about the DA. It went on and on about how brave these students were, standing up to the evil Dolores Umbridge (who, by the way, was in Azkaban awaiting her trial). Also, how the boy-who-lived taught the class even though he was getting cruelly punished…Honestly, it was not so much about bravery. As a graduate of Dumbledore's Army myself, I can tell you, we weren't trying to aggravate Umbridge. We just wanted to be safe, to be able to defend ourselves better.

That is, the DA was not trying to aggravate Umbridge. I can't tell you that _we_, the _we_ that I had always been part of until now, did not try to annoy Umbridge as much as possible. Yes, Fred and I certainly went out of our way to be as bad as possible.

One morning, I came down late and saw Verity crying over an article on the coach. I came over to her and looked over her shoulder.

It was a list of the people who died in the Battle of Hogwarts.

I sat next to her and read it too. It went on and on. Some of the names shocked me. I had had no idea.

Remus and Tonks… I had known they were dead, but it hadn't really sunk in. Poor Teddy. I made a mental note to visit him sometime. Dead. Now that I thought about it, I had even seen their bodies. I just hadn't paid attention. I was mourning Fred.

Colin Creevy. The little boy with the camera who idolized Harry. Some Death Eater had murdered him. He was underage but snuck back to the castle because he knew it was the right thing to do.

Lavender Brown. Greyback had almost killed her, leaving her on the ground after Hermione stunned him. She lay on the floor dying until someone's killing curse finally hit her. She had been Ron's first girlfriend.

Andrew Goldstein.

Dedalus Diggle.

Fred Weasley.

I realized that I was crying. Verity was too. She pointed to the list.

"Colin was my cousin."

"I remember him," I replied. "You should talk to Harry about him. He knew him well."

"Really?"

I nodded. "I knew most of these people," I said. "Ron dated Lavender for a while. Anthony was in my year. Remus was my teacher. Tonks was so much fun. Dedalus Diggle was in the Order. Very excitable guy, he was."

"And Fred," she whispered.

It was the first time either of us had mentioned his name.

I paused for a moment. "And Fred," I agreed. "Always Fred."

She hugged me and I sobbed into her hair.

I promised myself that I would go to every Death Eater's trial.

A few days later, I got an owl from Ginny. It was a fancy envelope. I was confused.

I ripped it open.

_We are overjoyed to invite you to the wedding of_

_Harry James Potter, son of Lily and James Potter_

_And_

_Ginevra Molly Weasley, daughter of Molly and Arthur Weasely_

_On Sunday the sixteenth of August nineteen-eighty-one _

I blinked. Harry and Ginny were getting married in two months? But Bill only just got married. The oldest and youngest kid in a family with SEVEN kids were getting married within a year of each other?

Sorry, six kids.

There was something else in the envelope. I turned it upside down. Two pieces of parchment fell out.

One was a reply card. The other was a letter.

_ Dear_George

_You may have noticed that there was no place mentioned in the invitation. This is because we do not want a million reporters at our wedding. Kingsley Shacklebolt, our good friend and acting Minister of Magic, has agreed to find us a safe spot. More information will follow later._

_Sincerely,_

_Ginny Weasley _

I couldn't help but laugh. I heard a knock on the door. "Come in," I called.

Verity came in, holding an identical invitation. "That was a welcome sound to hear," she commented

I looked at her blankly.

"You laughing," she clarified.

"Oh," I said. "You got one too?"

"Invitation? Yeah."

"Poor Harry," I said.

"Why poor Harry?"

"He must be so embarrassed. I mean, they have to hide their wedding so the reporters don't show up. I hope it dies down."

"We're lucky they haven't come here," said Verity.

We heard a voice downstairs. "George?" it called. "Verity?"

We looked at each other. "Sounds like Ginny," I said. We went downstairs.

Sure enough, my sister's head was sticking out of the fire. "Hey, George," she said when she was me, "you got it?"

I held up the invitation.

"The Burrow is overrun. God, those reporters are awful. Harry's thinking about going into hiding. Listen, can a bunch of us come over to you?"

I glanced at Verity, who shrugged. "Why not?" I said.

"Thank you so much," Ginny looked over her shoulder. "Oh, and George? It's really good to see you. I _knew_ you were here."

"No one else guessed?" I said.

"I told them you went to France. No one guessed that you would be in the most obvious place. Anyway, we'll be over soon." She grinned at me and pulled her head back.

"I just hope the reporters don't guess," Verity whispered from behind me.

"Who knows?" I joked. "It might be good for business."

She stared at me. "You're joking, George," she said. I looked at her for a moment. "You actually are joking, George," she said in delight. "I don't think I've heard you joke since—"She stopped when I sat down on the nearest chair abruptly.

"George, are you all right? What's wrong?"

"Those…" I began. "You sounded…" I put my cold hand to my face. It felt good. "That was almost exactly what….what Fred said right before the explosion."

She hugged me. "Oh, George. I'm sorry. I miss him too…"

Then we heard multiple cracks and my family appeared in the room.

"George!" cried Mum, and hugged me so tightly I thought my ribs would crack. Over her shoulder I saw Dad, Percy, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Bill, Hermione, Charlie, a pregnant Fleur and Verity, standing on the side. Finally Mum released me.

"Err…hi everyone," I said.

I knew why they were looking at me like that. It was not just that they hadn't seen me in a month. It was that I look like Fred.

Ginny gave me a hug and whispered in my ear, "I missed you."

We stood there awkwardly for a second. Harry said, "You don't know what a lifesaver you are, George. Those reporters…" he looked to the heavens for help.

Everyone else laughed.

"Everyone," I announced, "This is Verity. Verity, this is my Mum and Dad. These are my brothers, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ron…and Harry, I guess."

Harry grinned. "I guess we are brothers now, aren't we?"

"This is my sister Ginny—"

"I know Verity already," said Ginny, giving her a hug.

"And I guess that leaves Hermione, who could be my sister but isn't."

Hermione smiled at Verity.

Dad, Charlie and Bill shook her hand, Ron sort of waved at her, Percy gave an interesting sort of bow and Mum gave her a hug.

Ron looked around. "I love this place," he said.

I looked around. The shelves weren't fully stocked, there was nothing new, the charms that made things flash lights were wearing off, but it was still the best joke shop in the world.

**That's all for now. Please, please R&R!**


	4. The Trial of Draco Malfoy

This was the day the Death Eater's trials would begin. I had promised myself that I would attend every single one, and I would.

When I arrived at six in the morning, four hours before the trial was scheduled to begin, the courtroom was already filling up. I was glad that I had come early. I took a seat in the back, where my row was still empty.

I hoped no one would notice me. I wasn't ready to talk about _him_ yet and I knew they would ask, or try to console me, or whatever they wanted.

Something poked my back. I turned around. No one was there. I shrugged and faced front again. I felt another poke.

No one was there.

"It's me," whispered a voice out of nowhere. "Harry. I _really_ don't want those reporters noticing me. Can I sit next to you?"

"This is so weird," I replied to nothing. "Hold on a sec…" I rummaged in my bag and pulled out a piece of paper. With a flourish of my wand, words in very fancy script began to write themselves on the paper. _Reserved._

"Wonderful," Harry whispered. I felt something push by me and saw the chair cushion sink down a little.

I looked around. Ron and Hermione were on the other side of the courtroom, a few reporters around them. They saw me and waved. I waved back.

Ginny was there too, with Mum and Dad. They were in a corner.

I spotted Kingsley Shacklebolt sitting in the front next to a grey haired wizard. They were talking quietly.

Also in the room, I saw Dennis Creevy with some people I assumed were his parents. I saw Parvati and Padma Patil, both looking extremely sad. Parvati was crying. Katie Bell, Oliver Wood and a girl who I recognized but couldn't remember her name, were sitting a few rows down from me.

Soon the trial began. The grey haired wizard next to Kingsley stood up. He pointed his wand at his throat and muttered something. "May I have your attention, please." His voice echoed unnaturally loudly through the room. People slowly quieted down.

"I am Gawain Robards," the man continued. "I am head of the Auror Department. This trial will be conducted in the following manner: A few of the accused will come in. We will deal with each one separately. First we will read the list of accusations. The accused will have a chance to defend him or herself. Then we will call up witnesses. The accused can question our witnesses and afterward and call up witnesses of his or her own. Members of the Wizengamot may then ask the accused whatever they want. Finally, the accused will make a final statement and the Wizengamot will vote.

"Now, let the first three come in."

The double doors across from me opened. I felt a quick stab of despair as the dementors walked in, holding the accused. They were seated in the chairs with chains. My jaw dropped.

Lucius Malfoy, his cruel face looking utterly spent, plopped into the first chair. Next to him, his wife Narcissa sat in the second chair. She resembled a corpse with her too pale face and long white-blond hair.

In the third chair sat Draco Malfoy. He appeared scared and somehow…relieved. I almost felt sorry for him.

Next to me, I heard a sharp intake of breath. Before either of us could say anything, Gawain Robards continued. "We call Draco Malfoy to the stand. He is accused of: Attempted murder of Albus Percival Wulfirc Brian Dumbledore. Poisoning Ronald Bilius Weasley. Imperiusing Rosmerta Miriam Grant and forcing her to give a cursed necklace to Katherine Titania Bell. Almost murder of the said Katherine Titania Bell when she touched the cursed necklace, resulting in her five month stay at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. Aiding known criminals into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. How do you plead?"

The courtroom was silent. Draco was staring at his shoes. Finally he raised his head and said quietly, "Guilty. Of all charges."

Everyone started to talk.

"Silence, please!" said Robards. Everyone ignored him.

"Guilty? He's just a little boy…"

"Darn right he's guilty. Little Death Eater."

"I can't believe it!"

Harry poked me. "Look at Lucius," he whispered.

Lucius Malfoy was furious, but knew not to intervene. He glanced at his son angrily. "He probably wanted to say that Voldemort had imperiused him or something, like last time," I whispered.

"Silence!" shouted Robards. With his already amplified voice, the sound was quiet impressive. Finally people quieted down.

"You may now explain your plea," he continued.

Draco bit his lip. He cleared his throat and said quietly, "I did attempt to kill Albus Dumbledore. I spent my whole sixth year trying. The Dark Lord ordered me to. At first I was excited and proud. But I couldn't do it. He tortured me. I was impatient and lost my temper twice. The first time I gave Madame Rosmerta a cursed necklace to give to the first Hogwarts student she saw so they could get it to Dumbledore. She gave it to Katie Bell. The second time Madame Rosmerta poisoned the bottle of oak-matured mead Slughorn ordered, saying he intended to give it to Dumbledore for a Christmas present. He didn't, and somehow gave some to Weasley. I knew that if I did not kill Dumbledore, the Dark Lord would kill my whole family."

The room was silent for a whole three seconds. Then Robards asked the Wizengamot, "We call Leanne Rose to the stand."

The girl sitting with Katie and Oliver got up and walked down.

"Ms. Rose is the friend of Katherine Bell who first noticed that something was wrong," explained Robards. Turning to Leanne, he asked, "Can you tell us what happened that day?"

Leanne nodded. "We were in Hogsmeade," she began, her voice quivering slightly. "Katie and I, that is. It was cold and wet and yucky so we went to the Three Broomsticks to get some butterbeer. Before we left, Katie went to the bathroom. When she came back, she had this package and she wouldn't tell me what it was or where she got it. We started arguing and I grabbed the package. The paper came open and Katie touched it and…" Leanne gulped, "she floated in the air and screamed and screamed…" she stopped and looked at Robards. "That's all," she said.

"Do you wish to question the witness?" Robards asked Draco. He shook his head. "You can go back to your seat then," Robards told Leanne.

Robards had a quick conversation with a few people in the Wizengamot. Finally, he turned around and asked Draco, "Do you have any witnesses you have to call up?"

Draco nodded. "There is only one person who was present at all three cases," he said. "I call…Harry James Potter to the stand."

The room was silent.

Next to me, Harry swore under his breath. "I was afraid of this," he said and stood up.

I saw something not make its way down to the front of the room. That is, I saw a few people look around as though something had passed them and a paper crinkle as something stepped on it. A minute later, Harry appeared quite suddenly in front of Robards and Malfoy, Jr.

Everyone gasped.

"I'm here," said Harry, quite unnecessarily.

Cameras were clicking all over the place. Harry bent down and whispered something to the blond boy, who bit his lip and shrugged.

"Silence, please," begged Robards. People quieted down enough to hear the people in the center. "You may question your witness," he said to Draco Malfoy.

The boy gulped. "On the night at the top of the tower," he began, addressing his shoelaces, "there were two brooms. Were you on the other one, invisible?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you intervene?"

"Professor Dumbledore paralyzed me," replied Harry.

"Do you have any idea why he did that?" Draco asked. I was impressed. He was showing everybody that although he committed the crime, there were more complicated issues underneath.

Harry shrugged. "He knew he was dying anyway."

This was news to the general assembly. For that matter, it was news to me too. Ron, Hermione and Ginny probably knew that already, but the rest of the world was shocked.

"May I have silence please," said Gawain Robards again. We quieted a little.

Apparently Draco Malfoy had not known that either. But he used it to his advantage.

"Did you hear my entire conversation with Dumbledore?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Would you say that Dumbledore was surprised to see me?"

Harry paused. "He was not surprised to see _you_ in particular. He was worried and upset that there were Death Eaters loose in the school, but no, he was not surprised."

"What happened, from your point of view, on top of that tower?"

Harry sighed. "When we landed, there was nothing there. Professor Dumbledore was…not well and sent me to get Snape. Before I could, Malfoy—Draco Malfoy—walked in and disarmed Professor Dumbledore. In the second he had, Dumbledore paralyzed me. Then the two of them had a really long conversation. Malfoy was nervous. He explained how he had gotten the Death Eaters in and what was going on. Although he had the chance to kill Professor Dumbledore, he did not. Then Professor Dumbledore offered to protect Malfoy and his family. Malfoy almost accepted, but then the other Death Eaters came. They talked for a little. Then Snape came…" Harry closed his eyes. "Snape came and killed him."

This was the first anyone had really heard about what happened. I had—we had—not been there that night. All anyone knew was what Harry had said in short bits about it. He had not really mentioned Malfoy at all.

Once again, Gawain Robards was forced to scream for silence.

"When was the last time you saw me?" asked Malfoy.

"Is this relevant?" complained Harry. I saw Ron move forward a bit and Hermione whisper something in his ear.

"Yes," replied Malfoy.

"Well…" Harry was now interested in his shoes," the last time I saw you was when Ron, Hermione and I got caught by Snatchers and taken to your place."

"What was I asked to do?" It was a sort of awkward question, but Harry obviously knew what he wanted.

"They asked you to identify us."

"Did I?"

"Not willingly, but yes, eventually you did."

"You know that if I had refused, they would have tortured me?"

"No, I did not know that. But I could have guessed…" Harry finally looked up. "I knew that you had to."

The other boy nodded. "So you saw them threatening me?"

"Yes."

Malfoy took a deep breath. "I rest my case," he said.

Once again, everyone started talking. This time Robards did not even bother asking for silence. The Wizengamot was talking amongst themselves. I saw Harry whisper something to Draco, who bit his lip and smiled a little. Then he was gone. Harry, that is.

Everyone who was still watching him gasped. Soon, a small breeze ruffled my hair and the paper crumpled a little.

"I thought I would never get out of that," Harry breathed in my ear.

"You certainly set a stir," I replied. "You've never said that much about what happened before."

"I know." Although I couldn't see his face, I was sure that Harry was embarrassed.

"George…" Harry began.

"What?"

"Are you…are you all right?"

I couldn't see his face.

"No," I replied truthfully, "not quite. I'm trying, though. It's harder to laugh without a partner."

"I—"he began, but stopped abruptly when he saw Robards conferring with the temporary Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Sure enough, Robards stood up and said, "May I have your attention please."

This time, everyone stopped talking.

"The Wizengamot is ready to vote. All in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?"

Almost everyone raised their hands.

"And those in favor of conviction?"

Only two people raised their hands. I recognized one as Katie's grandmother. The other was a grumpy looking old man with a big bristly mustache.

"Cleared of all charges!" announced Robards.

Draco Malfoy started crying.


	5. The DA gets Revenge

In the end, Narcissa Malfoy was also cleared and Lucius was sentenced to a year in Azkaban and would never be allowed to hold an important office again. It was Draco's trial that made the headlines though.

I received a few owls asking me if I was willing to give testimony against certain Death Eaters and war criminals. I refused all but one. Harry, I heard from Ginny, was bombarded with owls for days with the same request. Many of us were. Neville gave an astonishing report at the Carrows' trial, actually displaying some of the scars they gave him. They were given life sentences in Azkaban.

Somehow, it was very satisfying to help get these people shut up for what they had done to us…and our families.

It was painful to hear about these things. It was even harder to speak about them. After speaking on Draco's behalf to general astonishment, Harry told Robards that he would attend every trial and only testify if there was really no other evidence. He, like me, like many of us, only agreed to one trial that he would definitely speak at, though he was sure there would be other evidence. Almost all of us were going to. We were even looking forward to it.

The powers-that-be had decided that there would only be one trial a week. The Malfoys had gone first, partly because Draco was young to be subjected to Azkaban for an indefinite amount of time and partly because they had a lot of money. Next there were the Carrows, both of whom had somehow survived, followed by Selwyn and Wilkes, two little known Death Eaters who had, among other things, tortured Mr. Lovegood and kidnapped Luna, who gave a wonderfully calm and complete account of their behavior.

Finally, a month after the trials began, the one I was most anticipating arrived.

When I arrived at the courtroom with Verity, there were a solid three rows blocked off for witnesses. Already seated were Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Terry Boot, Cho Chang, Padma and Parvati Patil, Ernie Macmillan, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, Lee Jordan and Dean Thomas. As far away from the others as possible were Zabini, Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson. There were other people too, looking angry and ready to say the worst. Harry identified them as Muggle-borns or half-bloods who had suffered under Voldemort's regime.

Lee jumped up and gave me a huge hug. He whispered in my ear, "I finally got Angelina to go out with me!" I grinned back. It was nice to see him.

Harry waved and called, "I have a seat saved for you!" I smiled.

"I'll go find a seat," whispered Verity. "Good luck." I squeezed her hand and she hurried off.

I went to sit next to Harry. To my surprise, Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout showed up and sat in the witnesses section in between the Slytherins and everyone else.

The room was filling in fast. Dennis Creevy and Susan Bones hurried to the few remaining seats in our section.

Robards stood up. After his usual beginning statement of the way the trial was run, he announced, "Bring in the accused."

Two dementors came in. Along with the customary despair that usually accompanied their appearance came a glow of satisfaction at seeing their captive.

"We call Dolores Jane Umbrigde to the stand," continued Robards.

A few of us cheered. "She is accused of: Child abuse; namely, the illegal use of a blood-quill on students and other unnatural punishments. Persecuting Muggle-borns. Making up evidence for trials. Accepting bribery. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," she said in that awful sugary sweet voice.

Robards attempted to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Please explain your plea."

"I was legally allowed to do whatever I wanted. I was the High Inquisitor," she said. "When I persecuted Muggle-borns, I was because that was what was acceptable and expected in the Ministry at the time."

"We had overflowing positive responses when we sent out owls asking if people wanted to be witnesses," continued Robards, gesturing at our area. "First we call up Lee Jordan."

Lee stood up, waving at the crowd. He came down to the front.

"Did Dolores Umbridge use a blood-quill on you?"

"She sure did," replied Lee emphatically, showing everyone his left hand. I could faintly make out some white scratches there. "You can barely read it now," Lee continued, "but once it said 'I will not be an impertinent, obnoxious student with no respect for my betters.'"

"What did you do that merited this punishment?"

"Well, it was after her decree that teachers couldn't talk to students about anything other than their classes. So I told her that she wasn't allowed to yell at me for playing Exploding Snap during class because it doesn't have anything to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts."

I swear I heard Kingsley chuckle.

"That was kind of rude, don't you think?" asked Robards, who was struggling to keep a straight face.

"Yes." Lee nodded. "It was."

"Do you have any questions for the witness?" Robards asked her. She shook her head.

"Now we call up…" he glanced at his piece of paper, "George Fabian Weasley."

I took a deep breath and walked down.

"You and your brother Fred left Hogwarts early, is that correct?" asked Robards.

I nodded.

"Why did you do that?"

"We felt that we were done with formal education. We weren't learning anything anyway."

"Why was that?"

"Umbridge wasn't teaching anything. It was all from books and with Voldemort loose, we thought we'd do better on our own."

"Do you have any questions for the witness?" asked Robards. Surprisingly, she nodded.

"What had you done right before you left?" she asked.

I suppressed a grin. "Are you referring to our advertising one of our products by demonstrating it in the hallway?" A few giggles came from the witness stand.

"I'm referring to the swamp you created in the hallway," she simpered.

"Only questions, please," Robards interjected.

"Fine. Did you create a swamp in the hallway?"

"We did," I said. "A Portable Swamp. We invented it."

"That's beside the point," she went on. "Are you aware that such a thing is against school rules?"

"Actually," I said, "nowhere in the extensive list of Hogwarts rules, which I have studied multiple times in detention, does it mention anything about creating swamps in the hallway."

She coughed. "Hem, hem." The familiar sound annoyed me. "My dear boy," she said in that awful honeyed voice, "surely you knew that blocking the hallways would be a nuisance and annoying?"

"Well, yeah," I replied, "that's sort of the point."

"The point of what?"

"Fred and I run—ran—have a joke shop. It's intended to be a nuisance to whomever the prank is played on. To everyone else, it's hilarious."

"So you thought it was funny?"

"It was," I replied.

"No further questions," she said. I was pleased.

I went back to my seat.

"You were great," whispered Katie. Dean slapped me five. Angelina and Oliver gave me thumbs up. I grinned back and plopped into my seat.

"That was really good," said Hermione.

Ginny gave me a hug.

Robards was talking. "…Angelina Johnson to the stand…"

Angelina complained about the 'No Teams' rule and her preference of the Slytherins. Hermione, who was next, talked about her unfair dismissal of Hagrid. Professor McGonagall mentioned her persecution of certain students and how she ignored the other teachers. It went on and on.

Finally, someone came up to speak about her Muggle-born persecution. "We call Mary Elizabeth Cattermole to the stand," said Robards.

Next to me, Harry, Ron and Hermione gasped simultaneously.

"Ms. Umbridge persecuted you in court. Care to talk about that?"

"She didn't believe anything I said," whispered the woman. "I told her everything truthfully and she just yelled at me. She would have killed me or sent me to Azkaban if the intruders hadn't come."

"What kinds of things did she do?"

"She stole my wand. She had dementors near me…it was awful."

I was shocked. Dad had mentioned things like that, but always in an undertone. Everyone was talking.

She went on. A few other people talked about her too. She was really a totally twisted evil woman.

"…Harry James Potter to the stand."

Harry grinned and walked down. He showed his scars. _I must not tell lies._ "The 'lie' I told was that Lord Voldemort returned."

The room was silent. He continued, "Oh and, by the way, this was before she was appointed High Inquisitor. She did not have the right to do anything she wanted at that point."

Harry returned to his seat.

"All in favor of conviction?" asked Robards.

Every single member of the Wizengamot raised his or her hand.

"Guilty," announced Robards.

**A/N: Hope you liked it. Thank you so much to the people who reviewed. I'm glad you liked it. **

**Reviews make me happy.**

**The more reviews I get, the harder I work on a story. (Hint, hint)**


	6. Opening

**Sorry for the delay, everyone, my plot bunny went on vacation. Guess what? I **_**still**_** don't own anything. Shocked much?**

_Amortentiaaa, Narcissa Malfoy was tried for aiding known criminals, not telling the government about them, etc. Thank you for pointing out to me that that was not entirely clear._

It was another month before I could open the store again. Surprisingly, it was Ron who helped the most. He was around most of the week, organizing shelves, taking inventory and working on some advertisements. To my great surprise, my little bro actually had some good ideas!

He cried a lot around the shop, especially when he found things with Fred's signature. I occurred to me that I wasn't the only one missing Fred.

I was glad to have him there. It was hard for me too. In some ways, I didn't want him there because it felt like he was taking over Fred's spot.

But then I realized how much he was doing to continue Fred's dream and really to keep me alert and alive, so I didn't complain.

He wasn't as good with the joke stuff or the manufacturing or anything, but his advertising and, to Hermione's lasting shock, people skills were quite impressive. People liked talking to him. When he visited likely investors, they listened. And it wasn't only because he was the famous sidekick of the Boy Who Lived, though that was part of it. It was because he knew how to identify with the people.

I was impressed. We all were.

The war had changed him. He no longer had the emotional range of a teaspoon, as Hermione once eloquently put it. He understood people better, didn't just dismiss them as annoying or boring. Ron now understood that there were things bigger than the next meal.

It was an improvement. And I'm pretty sure Hermione thought so too.

The opening day arrived. It seemed to me that all of wizarding England tried to fit into the shop. It was crazy.

Verity, Ron and I were going nuts when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Three people who I had definitely never seen before stood behind me: A short, Asian witch, a tall blond guy and a maybe ten year old witch with a 'I love ponies' t-shirt who seemed to be looking daggers at the Asian one.

"Need help?" asked Miss 'I love ponies.'

"Uh…who are you?"

"Your sister," she replied.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Ginny, probably one of the most powerful witches of her age, was in the body of a ten year old who loved ponies.

She probably would have hexed me if she hadn't been so glad to hear me laugh.

"I'm Hermione and he's Harry," the Asian witch said. No doubt about it, that was definitely Hermione.

"There are some spare robes in the back," I said. They disappeared.

"Excuse me?"

A little boy was pulling on my robes. I would guess he was about eight or nine.

"How much does this cost?" He handed me Disappearing Hat.

"What's your name, little guy?" I asked him, crouching down to look him in the eye.

"Mark Brown."

"Lavender's brother?"

"Not anymore," he answered, looking at me with these wide brown eyes. "Lavvy went to heaven."

I felt my eyes brim over suddenly. "For you, Mark, it's free," I said, giving him back the hat.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Yeah. Just come visit me some time, little guy, okay?"

He nodded and before I knew it, he was giving me a huge hug. The next second, he was gone.

"George, who are those people wearing our robes?" It was Verity.

In a moment, I was back in the position of capable shop owner. "Harry, Hermione and Ginny?"

"They didn't look it."

"Hermione's been making Polyjuice since second year."

"No way."

"Yeah, it's a good story. Ask me about it some time."

"Will do," she replied and headed back into the crowd.

Two seconds later, I was seized in a huge bear hug. Angelina, I realized. No one else hugged like that.

"Great to see you, George. I'll stop by some quieter day—" she said before being pushed away by the crowd.

Of course, there was the business part of the day too. People were buying our stuff like crazy. I guess after all the tension and sadness people really needed a laugh.

_WE, THE WEASLY TWINS, DO SOLEMNLY SWEAR TO BRING LAUGTHER INTO A WORLD THAT SORELY NEEDS IT._

I was doing my part.

**I love you all! I hope you love me and the best way to show that is by hitting that little button. **


	7. Life actually goes on

_Sorry it took me so long to get this started. Last chapter summary: WWW reopened, with lots of help from our favorite redhead in the Golden Trio. George met Mark Brown, Lavender's ten-year-old brother._

_I am not JK Rowling. Shock.  
_

* * *

Life settled down into a steady routine. Breakfast, work, lunch, work, dinner, sleep. Now much else. What else was there to do?

Ron was at the shop so often, he finally asked me, hesitantly, if he could have Fred's room.

I blinked and swallowed hard.

"It's okay if you don't want me to," Ron hastened to add. "I understand, I just that that, y'now, it would be easier…" He trailed off uncertainly.

My gut reaction was "Hell no!" That was Fred's room. Everything was as he had left it. How could we change that?

"You can have my room," I replied. The words were out of my mouth before I had finished thinking it.

My younger, taller, brother looked down at me with concern.

I swallowed. "I'll take Fred's."

"You sure?" Ron asked.

I nodded.

So that was how, after months of avoiding that side of the flat, I came to not only look at, but live in, Fred's room.

I opened the door slowly. Everything was exactly how he had left it the night we fled the shop with Lee. His drawers were still open, though most of the clothes were missing, stuffed into his bag that was probably still on the floor of our room at the Burrow. A box full of half-finished test products was overflowing on the floor.

I guess I was always the neat one.

Moving slowly, almost afraid to breathe, I sat down on Fred's bed.

It felt right.

* * *

Everyone seemed to be going off following paths that seemed, in some cases, invisible to no one but them.

Harry, to no one's surprise, agreed to work with the Ministry now that Kingsley was minister and was well on his way to being an extremely successful Auror.

Hermione hadn't really settled down yet, but she did write occasional articles for the Daily Prophet, saying that at least she knew that _her_ writing was factual.

Ginny had actually returned to Hogwarts for the seventh year, along with Luna.

Neville was also at Hogwarts, interning with Professor Sprout, who was ready to retire after losing so many of her dear students.

Lee was continuing PotterWatch, very successfully.

Alicia had gotten a job with PotterWatch, with her natural talent for getting to the bottom of things. She had, on numerous occasion, been responsible for busting certain pranks of Fred's and mine.

Katie, on the other hand, had surprised everyone by going into the Ministry. Not just any part of the Ministry: She went into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, to Hagrid's lasting joy, where she worked on destroying wizard prejudices towards goblins, mermen and, this time to Hermione's joy, elves.

Another Ministry surprise, I might mention, was Malfoy. Draco, that is. He, to everyone's shock, was interning in the Magical Law Enforcement Office.

We were growing apart. Especially some of my closer friends weren't that way anymore…

Lee dropped by a number of times, but he never stayed very long. Fred always came between us when we talked. I kept thinking about what he would say and I knew Lee was too.

Not to mention that Lee was well on his way to becoming a millionaire: PotterWatch was now immensely popular, mostly because it was both reliable and funny. Lee had basically been preparing for the job all those years of commentating at Hogwarts Quidditch games and people enjoyed listening to him.

The Lee/Angelina thing, to only Lee's surprise, fell apart after about three dates. Lee had been interested in her looks, Quidditch skills and humor, not really in anything else. Angie had only gone out with him because she felt like she had to be going out again.

She and Fred had been together for a year and a half. They broke up shortly after Fred and I had left Hogwarts. Since then, she really hadn't gone out with anyone, at least that I knew of.

She had come by once or twice as well and had stayed for a lot longer than Lee and left laden with joke shop paraphernalia. At first, Angie kept tearing up as she talked, but soon we were back to the joking friendship we had had before.

Then Angelina told me she was considering moving to Australia.

I laughed. Who wouldn't? I mean, Australia?!

She was looking at me strangely. I stopped in mid-chuckle. "You were—ah—_joking_, right?" I asked.

"Um…no," she replied. "Actually, you know how Quidditch teams send recruiters out to school games?"

I nodded.

"Well, one of them was at that last game, you missed it, and came up to me afterwards. At first I said no way am I moving to Australia. But now…" she shrugged. "There's too much death here. There are ghosts of happy times everywhere I turn. I can't stand it, George, so I'm leaving."

I must have looked like an idiot gaping at her. Australia?

"Er…I'm very happy for you," I managed with difficulty.

"I'm sorry, George. I'd stay if there was anything left here for me, but my parents want me to take the chance…Leesha and Katie are off creating new lives for themselves and you're really all that's left for me here…" she looked at me sadly.

"And I'm not enough," I said dully.

"That's not what I meant," she said instantly. "No, George, I—"

She didn't finish.

"Tell me," I said quietly, "if Fred were here, would you still leave?"

She stared at me. "I—How could you _say_ that?"

To my surprise, her eyes had suddenly filled with tears and she stood up and ran out.

Startled, I stood up and sprinted outside into the cool October air.

"Angie, wait!" I yelled.

She turned around and glared at me. "What?" she asked, low and deadly.

"I—what team are you on?" I asked.

"Wollongong Warriors," she replied shortly.

"But they're lousy!" I blurted. Her eyes narrowed and she pointed her wand at me. I felt my limbs grow heavy and knew she had _Impedimenta_-ed me, practically freezing me as she turned and walked briskly down the street.

I watched her leave helplessly. She disappeared down the street.

It took me several minutes to recover from her hex enough to sprint after her, ignoring the strange looks from passerby and burst into the Leaky Cauldron, this time getting annoyed looks.

Tom the Barman told me that she had taken her things and left without a word to anyone. She was gone.


	8. A Little Boy and Letters

When I arrived back at the shop with no memory of the walk home, I discovered a small boy sitting on the front steps, solemnly staring at me.

"Good afternoon," he said politely, looking up at me with huge chocolate brown eyes. It was the look in those eyes that reminded me who he was.

"Hey, little guy," I said, crouching down to look him in the eyes. "Mike, right?"

"Mark," he corrected quietly.

"Where are your parents, Mark?" I asked. Once upon a time, I wouldn't have cared. Once upon a time, I would have thought it was funny to see a little kid like Mark give his parents the slip. But that was before I found out what it was like to worry desperately for someone's safety…before I had lost anyone. Before I had lost Fred.

"Foolish and Blotts," he answered precisely. I hid a smile, wondering what Hermione would think of this pronunciation of her favorite store's name.

"Do they know that you're here?"

"No." He glanced up at me to see what I thought of this. I tried to keep my face impassive and apparently succeeded, as he decided he had to explain more. "It was boring," he said.

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

He smiled big then, and I could see that he was missing his front two teeth. I wasn't sure why, but my eyes filled up then and I had a sudden desire to have kids. Never before had I wanted to be a father, but with Mark looking up at me with his eyes shining like that, and those two teeth adorably missing, I ached for what had gone missing in my life. We had grown up, my siblings and I. There were no more teddy bears or loose teeth, finger paintings on the walls or mud pies in the halls.

I hadn't realized how much I missed the family, not only Fred, until then.

I stood up, brushing the dust off my knees. "Do you think your parents will be worried when they find you missing?"

I know that it's cliché, but the light went out of his face like someone blowing a candle out. "I hadn't thought of that," he said. "We'd better go find them, hadn't we?"

"Yes, we probably should," I agreed.

He hesitated and I could see there was something more he wanted to say.

"What is it, Mark?"

"Can I…" he looked up at me and seemed to gain courage. "Can I buy a Pygmy Puff?"

He pronounced the 'g' in pygmy like the 'g' in 'giant.'

Misreading my pause as hesitance, the little boy stuck his hand into his pocket and came up with a handful of Sickles. "I've been saving up my pocket money for weeks," he told me earnestly.

"Come on in," I said with a smile. "How did you find out about Pygmy Puffs?" I asked curiously as we walked in.

"I saw the ad in the Daily Prophet," he said, clearly distracted by the bright colors of the shop.

"Really?" I said in surprise, leading the way over to the shelf where little balls of fur bounced around happily.

"Yes. It said that the Pygmy Puff was the perfect pet to curl up in bed with and talk to when you were feeling down."

I blinked. It had been Ron's idea to start advertising specific products, and Verity had been assigned the writing of them. I had forgotten entirely about that particular ad, and how Mark had stumbled upon it was anyone's guess.

"I want that one," he said, pointing to the far corner of the cage. I reached in and pulled out an electric blue one.

"No," he said firmly. "The other one."

I glanced back in the cage. The other puff in the corner was a light shade of purple. I pulled it out and handed it to the delighted boy, who began petting it at once.

I reached under the shelf and pulled out the box of Puff Care Ware, complete with a small bed for it and comb. Puffs love to be brushed.

"Okay, Mark," I announced, leading the way to the cash register, "the puff costs eleven Sickles and the Care Ware costs nine, so that's one Galleon and eight Sickles."

Mark's face fell. "I don't have that much," he said quietly. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time."

I flinched. Too often as a child had I heard the shopkeeper's verdict followed by my mother's regretful 'I'm sorry, George. We just can't afford it."

"Tell you what, Mark," I began, and he looked up at me hopefully. "I'll give it to you now, and if it's okay with you're parents, you can come in every weekend and work until you've paid it off. How does that sound?"

The ecstatic look on his face answered for him.

We found his parents without difficulty. I knew too well what the look on a worried parent's face looked like, having witnessed it more or less every day of my childhood. Fred and I had not been easy to take care of.

His mom had been nearly hysterical when we walked up. I didn't blame her. She had lost a daughter.

I had lost a brother, a friend…

"Oh, thank you," she gushed, hugging me tightly. "I really don't know what I would have done with Mark missing, I really don't."

His dad hurried up beside us, echoing his wife.

They had no objections to my deal with Mark. For that matter, his mother whispered to me quietly that she hadn't seen Mark so animated since…I understood her hesitance at finishing the sentence.

It was hard to admit that our loved ones were gone.

Oh, Fred…I found myself talking to him in my head, telling what was going on in my life. I had tried to break myself of the habit. Clearly I had failed.

"I'm glad to be helpful," I said, and hurried away, feeling the eyes of the adult Browns on my back. Yet when I glanced back at the corner, only Mark's dark eyes remained on me, one arm cradling his new pet.

That night, I wrote letters.

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_Sorry for not being in contact so much. Things are busy here at the shop, but I do miss you, and the rest of the gang. I love you._

_George._

See what they made of that. Hopefully they wouldn't be too worried.

_Dear Bill,_

_What's up with you? I haven't heard from you or Fleur in a while. How's life?_

_I miss you._

_George._

_Dear Charlie,_

_How's life in Romania? No dragons injured you yet? It's lonely here, without everyone. I miss you._

_George._

_Dear Percy,_

This one was harder to write. I started again.

_Dear Percy,_

_I love you. What's going on in your life? I haven't had any idea what you do with your time since the cauldron bottoms. I don't like that. You're my brother, I should know what's up in your life._

_George._

That was enough. They would think I was crazy as it was.

One more though…

_Dear Angelina,_

_I'm sorry I was such an idiot._

No, bad way to start a letter. I tried again. And again. By the time I gave up, there were five or six started drafts. None of them were any good.

_Dear Angie,_

_How's Australia? I miss you. I'm sorry I was an idiot._

_Dear Angelina,_

_I'm really sorry about what I said. The Warriors aren't that lousy._

_Dear Angelina,_

_I didn't mean to say what I said about Fred. I miss him so much._

_Dear Angelina,_

_I wish I wasn't such an idiot._

I needed help.


	9. I manage

_My sincerest apologies about the delay. Last chapter summary: A visit from __Mark Brown__, Lavender's younger brother, causes George to realize how much he misses his family. Mark ends up helping out in the store on the weekends and George sends his family letters._

My letters must have really worried the family, since I got long responses from nearly everyone the next day. Bill's came first, early in the morning.

_Dear George,_

_I miss you too. Want to come by for dinner sometime? How about this Thursday night?_

_What's up in your life? Life here is good, though Fleur is a bit stressed, but the Healer says that's normal for pregnant women and I shouldn't worry. She's as lovely as ever though, and we're very much looking forward to our little boy or girl. If he's a boy, how would you feel if we named him Fred? We'd like to, you know. We miss him._

_Send Ron my regards and tell him that he should under no circumstances venture into Gringotts without me. In fact, send him by sometime and I'll do my best to patch up relationships with the goblins. They don't take kindly to robbers, though when they found out it had to with defeating You—I mean Voldemort, they were slightly mollified._

_Love,_

_Bill_

_Dear George,_

_Your father and I were very happy to hear from you. You really should come by sometime. How about Friday night for dinner? Bring a friend if you want. I have to say, life is so much quieter without you! I miss you so much, George. Thank you for writing._

_Love, _

_Mum and Dad_

Naturally, I had to say yes to both invitations. I asked Verity if she wanted to come, but she politely declined, hinting at other plans with a mysterious suitor. Making a mental note to pry more later, I wrote out quick affirmative replies.

It had been three days since Angie left. I didn't know what to do, so I didn't do anything, except run the shop.

Alicia came by for the first time on Wednesday. It had been Sunday when Angie left. She told me she wanted to show me something. "Something" was a painting. I hadn't know Leesha could paint, but by God, she could! The painting was of the Gryffindor common room, featuring one of our—Fred's and mine—demonstrations of some of our products. Angelina and Lee were on the floor, laughing. We all looked happy, like nothing oculd harm us.

My eyes were wet.

"Wow," I managed. Alicia looked at me with a small, sad, smile.

A thought occurred to me. "Could you—I'm going over to my parent's for dinner on Friday. Would you…like to come?" I stammered. "I mean…and show them this? It's really amazing and I think Mum would like it even if it shows us in some of our less moral behavior and—"

"Yes," she said, not letting me finish my rambling. "I'll come, and I'll bring this…" She looked at her art fondly.

I swallowed, hard. "And…"

She looked up at me. "Yeah?"

"Have you…never mind."

"Have I what, George?" She looked at me intently, willing me to answer. I didn't. "George?"

"I was just going to ask…it doesn't matter."

"You were going to ask?" she prompted.

"Ifyouhdherdfrmgelina." I blurted, and blushed.

She blinked at me and went over what I had said. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Yes, I have."

"Did she…say anything about me?"

Alicia shook her head slowly, thinking. "No…but there were a couple times when she crossed something out entirely, and that might have been about you…"

"Oh," I said intelligently.

"Don't worry about it, George," Alicia told me, and pulled me into a tight hug before leaving me to continue wallowing in my self-pity, something I had grown quite good at in the past few months, and something I had never been allowed to do before, when I had someone with me always to cheer me up.

_Oh, Fred…How could you leave me?_ I thought, not for the first time. And not for the last. Then, _Angie…how could _you_? I need you here. I don't have Fred anymore…_

I brushed away the tears threatening to fall, and turned to face the next customer.

There was still a steady trickle of customers in the small store, more on the weekends and such. Mail orders from Hogwarts were fairly common.

* * *

The next morning, I had a reply from Percy.

_Dear George,_

_I love you too, and I miss you. I've been far from a good brother to you, and you can't know how much I regret that. I was so awful to you two. Please forgive me for that. When can I come by and see you?_

_Love,_

_Percy_

It took me a long time to answer him. He had walked out on us, and that had hurt Mum more than anything. He left us. Percy had always been a prat, but it took me a couple weeks to fully absorb what he had done. Ginny, especially, couldn't believe that one of her brothers had let her down. Fred and I swore to her that we never would, but it hadn't helped, and we had spent hours at a time coming up with ways to get revenge. He had supported Umbridge and that alone was horrendous.

And yet…he had come back, and it was he who stayed with Mum every day now that Ginny was back home. And he had been with Fred when I hadn't, something I would never forgive myself for.

_Dear Percy,_

_It would be unfair to let you take all the blame—Fred and I were far from nice to you. Percy, I can't say that I don't mind your walking out on us, but I can never forget that it's thanks to you that Fred died laughing. I can't forgive myself for not being there, but I am grateful that you were. _

_And Percy, you are my brother and my door is always open to you. You don't need a time to stop by._

_Love,_

_George_

_**Yes, I know it's short, and I apologize. But the next one is already started.**  
_


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